


Take Apart/Put Together

by DegenerateBible



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DegenerateBible/pseuds/DegenerateBible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Rafael Barba knows how to make George Huang come completely undone. But he’d much rather spend his time putting him back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Apart/Put Together

It has taken Rafael Barba months to figure out how to make George Huang completely come apart. Sex for them has never been normal. It’s always sharp, always charged, always George begging, clinging, whining, on his knees or pushed against the wall, or bent over a desk, his teeth and tongue driving Rafael to the brink of sanity and back. The man’s body is an orchestra and when tuned just right, it makes the most beautiful sounds. And God, the thought of that beautiful body spread underneath his own, parting his thighs and clawing at Rafael’s back, so different from the collected doctor most people know, never fails to make the attorney hard no matter where he is.

More often than not, that place is daydreaming in his office or watching him in the precinct or…

The point is, he knows how to make the doctor come apart. 

Putting him back together is something different entirely. 

He knows this when George walks into his office on a rainy Thursday afternoon looking like a shattered mosaic. He doesn’t bother to knock, just walks in with his heavy heart and soaked raincoat, closing the door behind him. 

Rafael rises and George steps back, shaking almost imperceptibly. The doctor licks his lips, staring at the attorney with his wide red eyes. But his voice doesn’t waver. He doesn’t cry. 

“I forgot my messenger bag,” he says, nodding to where it sits atop Rafael’s desk. But he doesn’t move, just shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking distant and off balance. 

“Of course,” Rafael says calmly, picking it up and walking over to the sofa. He collapses onto it, setting the bag on the coffee table and saying softly, “Come. Sit. I missed you today.” 

Truthfully, he’s been missing him for nearly a week straight. George sighs but complies, shrugging out of his raincoat and placing it on the coat rack, running a weary hand through his damp hair. 

“So I’ve seen the news.” 

George flinches. Rafael wants to hit himself. They sit, Rafael staring at George’s blank profile. He hasn’t been sleeping. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin worn pale. His full lips part to let out a sigh. 

“I know you did.” 

“There’s nothing you—“ 

“Don’t.” George’s voice is flat, rough, unwavering. “I’ve been telling myself that all day: it’s not my fault, there’s nothing I could’ve done. But that’s my job. My job is to do things. I sit and listen to people, damaged, ravaged people all day long. My job is to help, it’s to prevent things like this from happening. So don’t say there’s nothing I could’ve done to prevent a fourteen year old victim of rape from going home and shooting his mother, his little sister, and then himself. Don’t lie to me.” His voice cracks and shakes, like an earthquake through his weary anatomy and he says, almost desperately, “Please don’t lie.” 

Rafael sits on the couch. Pulls George into his lap. He holds him to his chest. Gentle. Breathing. The small body quivers in his hands. George smells of grief. Of sweat. Of fear and heat and rain and faith lost. And all Rafael can do is hold him now, keeping the cracking man together with his hands. 

“I won’t lie to you,” Rafael whispers, urgently, placing a kiss atop the damp mess of black hair. “I won’t lie. You did all you can and sometimes all we can do is not enough. I know that it’s a horrible thing but its true. I won’t lie to you. We do what we can. You did all that you could.” 

George hesitantly nuzzles into his chest, tries to even out his breathing. Rafael gently lays him down, placing his head in his lap, running gentle fingers through the still damp strands. 

“You should sleep,” he says after awhile. “You look exhausted.” But the doctor is already asleep, cheeks stained with dried tears like a small child. A sliver of a grin darts across Barba’s face as he rises carefully, going to the drawer in his desk where he keeps a blanket. 

He casts it across George’s body softly and takes a moment to stare at the smaller man, the heartbroken thing he’d sworn to protect sometime ago. He sits on the coffee table next to the messenger bag wondering when he started considering George Huang something of his to protect. 

Maybe it was around the same time they kissed in the precinct’s elevator, George’s timid mouth against Rafael’s chapped lips. Or maybe when Rafael made the decision to stay the night or maybe after their first fight. Maybe it was when he refused to ignore when George flinched when Rafael had called him beautiful for the first time. 

Either way, the man in restless slumber on the couch is hurt and needs rest and Rafael is almost, almost surprised by the annoyed growl that slides from his throat when his office door is knocked on. He wants to turn whoever it is away but he still has a job, there are still victims and perps and some form of justice to be brought. 

But he’d be lying if he said he wanted to deal with Olivia, Nick, and Amanda at this moment. 

“Detectives,” he says, looking at each of them intently. “Here’s what’s about to happen. You’re going to walk in and you’re going to be silent. Then you’re going talk quietly. There will be no comments that don’t pertain to the case in question. Then you’re going to leave just as silently as you came in. Are we clear?” 

They just stare at him and eventually nod and Rafael opens the door wider, allowing them access. They shuffle in quietly staring at the lump of blanket on the couch. George has shifted in his sleep, turning away from them and while they stare at him curiously for a moment, they eventually fill Rafael in on the case. 

He listens with half a mind, keeping an eye on the body shifting under the blanket. Olivia’s gaze travels to the sofa when she isn’t speaking, Nick just looks overall confused with the entire situation, and Amanda strangely enough just smiles as if she’s aware of the ridiculousness of it all. 

But then George wakes, rising like a small child, fisting his eyes and blinking wide-eyed and innocent. The detectives swear they’ve never seen Rafael move so fast but he is at George’s side before he’s thrown the cover off himself. 

“Hey,” he says, smiling a gentle smile. George blinks, as if suddenly remembering where he is. 

“Hey.” And his voice is still soft and drowsy; he turns, offering a smirk to their audience. “Hello detectives.” 

They all mutter some form of greeting before Rafael draws his attention again.

“How do you feel?” His eyes are warm and concerned, and before he can stop himself he runs a hand through the other man’s hair. George blushes and Rafael swears he’s adorable. 

“Better,” he says, and checks his watch. “But I have to go. I have a meeting with Cragen about my profile.” And he rises, straightening his shirt and tie and reaching for his bag. “Thank you.” He kisses his cheek, waves to the detectives and exits. Rafael watches him the whole way out, feeling the kiss on his cheek and the smile on his lips. He couldn’t deny either if he tried. 

“Counselor?” Olivia’s voice is heavy with amusement and he fights the blush creeping up his collar. 

He turns, facing her smiling face with his own. “Yes?” 

“As I was saying about the blood evidence, Warner thinks….” 

Yes, Rafael Barba knows how to make George Huang come completely undone. But he’d much rather spend his time putting him back together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying to get over writer's block. Feedback is greatly appreciated.


End file.
